Deciding that it’s best to start with manipulating actual snow with the snow magic first, I start to create another spark.
After developing a headache from trying to keep the System’s energy around a speck of the corrupted stuff for what feels like hours, I find myself with the tiniest spark imaginable.
Finally! Phew, that took a while. Now what to do, what to do?
After tapping my chin contemplatively I decide to try an idea. Taking the energy I have I try to force it into the snowflake.
I think it’ll work. Maybe I can use it as a way to hold onto the snow and move it around.
Poof!
Unfortunately, the snowflake explodes into a bunch of tiny pieces, falling to the ground miserably.
“Darn.”Deciding that it’s fine to have a short break, I switch the bandana hearing target to Ismund.
* * *
ISMUND
As I’m carving I find myself interrupted, this time by an actual voice.
“How long do you think we’ll be in here for? Like this tunnel thingumabob?”
“It’s going to take some time. Get back to you’re studying or whatever you want to call it.”
Despite what I’ve said she still lingers around the tent.
Good grief woman. I don’t care that it’s boring, or whatever else you’re going to call it. You need to be productive, not entertained. Letting out a breath of annoyance, I ignore her.
I’ve been procrastinating myself. I should clean and sow up some of the other injuries I’ve been ignoring.
Beginning the process, I take a chunk of bandage and take a painstakingly long time to remove some of the individual strands.
I know that you heal quicker in a dungeon from the magical concentration, but I don’t think it’s quite fast enough. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have to do this.
Taking the rough-looking needle I had on my person, I carefully tried to thread it with the string I had.
Dang it.
As I try to maneuver the string into the needle it starts to fray a bit, making it too large to fit through the eye. Taking the rough bits I remember from what mum did…
I heave out a sigh at the thought of her but forage on in the sewing process.
Getting the string wet with some spit, I smooth it out into a point.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
Aha!
On my second attempt of jamming it into the eye, it goes through.
I think I’m supposed to make a knot right?
After making what I think must be a perfect knot, I brace myself.
Wait shouldn’t I clean the wounds first?
Leaning on my [Born of the Cold] achievement, I make a small friction fire and start to melt some snow to make sure the wounds are fairly clean before I sow them shut.
After waiting a few minutes I hear the tell-tale burbling of the pot.
Blubble,
Barbleble,
Blop!
Perfect!
Grabbing a dirty-ish shirt from my inventory I take one of the few remaining clean sections and dunk it in the hot water that’s rapidly cooling. Even while cleaning the wounds gently, it still rips a hiss of pain from me.
Should’ve done this earlier.
A handful of painful minutes later the now wet shirt is sitting in my inventory so it doesn’t become a Popsicle, the fire’s dead, and the pot is also gone in my inventory.
Alrighty then, may as well get to it.
Pulling out the string from earlier I carefully and slowly thread the largest of my wounds together, leaving the smaller scratches to fend for themselves.
At each stitch I and up hissing through my teeth in pain.
This works fine for the large scratches but the bites tell a different story. The skin is too far apart for me to confidently stitch, but since it froze (thanks to the cold both I and the dungeon produce), it didn’t bleed out and instead had the blood freeze kind of like a less helpful clot.
I know that bandages might be used conventionally as a way to stop bleeding, but I figure it doesn’t hurt to put them on anyway. Just in case.
Pulling out the small amount of the bandages left, I wrapped them around the major open wounds, which were, admittedly, somewhat disconcerting.
Before I get the chance to move on I hear a voice again.
“Hey, Ismund? How do you know so much about dungeons if you haven’t gone in one before.”
Pressing my tongue to my teeth and flicking my brows up in annoyance I answer brusquely, “I have my sources. I’m the one who has lived their entire life in this timeline. Remember? Like I said, get back to your magic stuff and be productive.”
“How long till we get into the next room?”
I decided to just ignore her in turn since she ignored me. A few moments later I hear her footsteps walk away from my tent, Leaving me to shake my head at her.
After a moment of pause the same footsteps come trailing back to where I am.
Gosh.
“Why are dungeons bad?”
At that statement, I swear my eyes must’ve bulged out of my skull.
What did she say? I’m not hearing right.
Opening my ‘door’ I ask with thinned lips, “Sorry?”, blinking in disbelief.
Confirming that my hearing is intact, she reiterates, “Why are dungeons bad?”, bright foolish eyes looming over me. After a second of actual thought passes through her brain she adds, “Other than the monsters.”
I answer through a strained smile, listing it off on my fingers “They murder people, act as a base for people to be sacrificed, ruin the land, destroy communities and all that is good. And did I mention killing people? They also just so happen to want to release all of their monsters onto the world to destroy humanity and take our lovely planet for themselves. There’s a reason the fiends that inhabit the dungeons used to have the nickname ‘demons.’”
Looking down from my sharp gaze, Drifa scratches her head, “Ah, right.”
At that, I nod my head at the obviousness of it all and close the tent flap I’d been peeking out of.
***
A while later I pause in carving toothpicks from Drifa’s ruckus.
“Ahah!”
Shump,
Shump,
Shump,
Shump.
Putting the knife down once again I crane my neck towards the incoming shadow.
Without asking for any permission, she rips open the curtain, exposing her jubilant face and quickly scrawling on the ground.
“Guess what?”
Ignoring my lack of interest she carries on, “I made some progress!”
Lending her hand forward, she opens it to reveal a tiny little snowflake spinning around at what must’ve been her whim.
Raising my eyebrows, I encourage “Keep at it.” in the snow and turn to make some more toothpicks as the footfalls lead away from me.
It’s good that she’s made progress. It’s impressive that she’s going as quick as she is, but I’m not going to indulge her because time’s tight as it is and I don’t want to make her think she can spare the time to slow down. Food can only last for so long.
Thinking about it I start to rake my hair absentmindedly from mild concern.
* * *
DRIFA
Prancing back to my side of the tunnel, I reread my most recent notification with satisfaction.
>
>
> [Pure Magic has advanced! User Drifa now has basic snow manipulation. Details can be found on the summary page.]
Open the summary again, please!
I think, emphasizing with the swish of a finger.
>
>
> [Drifa can manipulate snowflakes with her will and intent. The amount of snowflakes controlled at one time is dependent on the users ability to split attention.]
Sweet! Maybe this same thing applies to healing as well. I matched the spark to the snowflake's energy, so maybe it’s the same with a wound? Just push it together?
I nod as I work through it all.
Maybe I could numb the area that I heal with snow? Wait, that doesn’t work. We both have cold immunity. I guess it’ll just be painful, for now at least. I’ll find something. But I could probably use the pure aspect to clean the wound at some point. Once I understand that aspect in the first place.
Once I figure this out I could probably match the energy to bone and realign it. It’s just a matter of application.
Thinking of all the ways I could use it made my eyes shine with delight. After a sudden thought bombards me I get a wonderful idea.
The shield didn’t make the ‘rabbit’ meat edible, but maybe if I try to purify it it’ll work. I moved the corrupt energy out from the dungeon into the shield after all. maybe I can pull the gross stuff out of the meat. That’d be a game-changer.